


You are a memory

by midmorning_bomb



Series: Little glimpse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midmorning_bomb/pseuds/midmorning_bomb
Summary: If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.Because Peter’s done the same for him.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Little glimpse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892233
Comments: 8
Kudos: 245





	You are a memory

Stiles doesn’t let go.

He dreams about it and his subconscious mind fixes his wrong, waking reality, and he never, never lets go.

“Stiles... he wouldn’t want this.”

Scott sounds concerned, but it’s the wrong thing to say (there is no right thing).

And Stiles can’t help the sneer that twists his face as he looks incredulously up at the man who will never be his alpha. He doesn’t bother trying to choke the cruel laugh.

“You think _you_ know anything about what Peter wants?”

With a wave of his hand, Stiles forces Scott out of the house, door slamming shut behind him. Peter has survived fire and poison and conquered death, he’ll survive this. Stiles is better than some lampad’s curse. If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

Took Stiles’ pain until his veins were spread black like coal under his skin. Stayed for the hardest nights, when Stiles stood between veils, seeing _everything_ , losing himself. Every time Stiles took the rules of magic and possibility and twisted them until they bent and screeched under the pressure, Peter was there by his side.

Now Stiles can barely feel Peter beneath the blue and he will be damned if this is how it’s going to end.

There are rituals to follow to break a curse. There is order to sacrifice. He sent Scott away because he was an interruption, okay. Infuriating. But he’s also not sure about the clinical detachment he felt, watching his (former) friend and seeing the power that could bring Peter back more than the person. He doesn’t want to kill Scott, at least he doesn’t think he wants to kill Scott. He looks at his trembling hands because he should be more sure than he is. If it came down to Scott or Peter? He takes a shaky breath in, and out.

Days pass and Stiles keeps working, the veil like a shroud constantly on the verge of tearing. He surrounds Peter with tokens: A photo of the two of them, a ridiculous selfie with Peter making a duckface while Stiles licks his cheek. Stiles’ favourite red hoodie. Peter’s watch, somehow salvaged from the wreckage of the fire, the only piece he has left from his grandfather.

A ring.

Derek comes to help keep vigil. Peter is covered in writing, it’s English but Derek can’t make sense of it. It’s like some kind of stream of consciousness, it’s... Stiles, written out across his uncle’s flesh.

He looks at Stiles, working quietly and muttering, eyes backlit and cloudy. Stiles is pulling strings all around Peter, around himself and now Derek. Who swallows back primal horror as soon as he realizes Stiles is literally fucking with the strings of fate.

Stiles finally registers someone else is in the room and smiles sharply. 

“Good timing. I need blood from a faithful beta.” He tilts his head, and Derek feels a pull in his gut, a vice around his lungs. He looks down and sees one of the strings passing through him, into Stiles’ fist.

“Will you be a faithful beta, Derek? You can say no.”

Derek doesn’t even hesitate. Cuts into his own palm with his claws and fills the small mortar in Stiles’ other hand. This has to be better than Scott, and what has destiny ever done for the Hales?

Stiles adds his own blood to the mixture. He blends in agrimony, burdock root, hibiscus and nettle. He uses his fingers to paint the draught across Peter’s eyelids, his lips, into his mouth. He senses the curse fighting him, crawling up his spine.

It feels like someone’s replaced his vertebrae with acid and by the time he’s almost finished, he’s screaming and Derek is frantic across from him with wide, flickering eyes, losing control of his shift.

Peter jerks up, and nearly off the bed, vomiting rotting poplar leaves and blinking back tears.

All he can taste is decaying vegetation and blood, and he feels distraught hands on either side of him. He looks up to see his nephew looking relieved and conflicted, with relief winning out. He turns to say something, but ends up tackled back onto the bed by Stiles.

Peter’s not stupid. He can feel the frayed knots all around them, the meant-to-be that Stiles _broke_. He sees his watch, Stiles’ hoodie, that awful photo. He coughs again, weakly laughs. “This is one hell of a proposal, sweetheart.”

Derek snorts and Stiles looks a bit wry as he asks, “The resurrection, the ring, or the insta-pack with only slightly used betas?”

Peter’s breath hitches as he looks to Stiles, then over to his nephew. His gaze flares crimson, and they flare back, glowing blue and white.

Derek is the first to rise, getting water for Stiles and his uncle. His alpha.

“Will there be a price to pay?” Nothing comes free, Peter has learned this lesson over and over again.

Stiles stares back at him, it’d be unnerving to anyone else, but he leaves Peter gasping.

“You think I’d break a lampad’s curse, fuck with destiny, just to let some bullshit balance take it all away from me?”

He picks up the ring, and everything about him speaks of power and devotion bordering just this side of sane, “Peter, if you’ll have me, I will **never** let you go.”

**Author's Note:**

> [You are a memory](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2w8Cm0ZZ2s).
> 
> Not a sequel to Fractals (where Derek is alpha and there are pancakes) so much as me trying to get this damn story right.


End file.
